Portals to the Past
by AirForceMarauder
Summary: The war is over and Harry is the only one left. He lives the life of a Hermit until one day he finds a rather extraordinary book. Second Chances may be in the future. Not a Trio fic. H/Hr. Non DH compliant. Independant!Grey!Smart!Redo! I don't own HP.
1. Chapter 1

**Portals to the Past**

Harry Potter, age 21, stood on a hill over-looking the mud and blood covered battle field that was once the front lawn of one of the greatest schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the world. Hogwarts lay behind him, reduced to piles of rubble, mounds of twisted metal and glittering pieces of broken glass. The dead and dying lay one on top of the other in shapeless, lumpy heaps, dark puddles of their own blood pooled under them and sightless eyes staring into the dark, starry void that was the night sky.

At his feet lay one of the most powerful and feared Dark Lords in recorded history, broken, bleeding and struggling for his last few breaths of life. Harry stood there watching his greatest enemy take his last ragged breath with an inscrutable expression. Voldemort's chest hitched once more and then was still. The Dark Lord was no more. It was finally over. He was finally free.

But free to do what?

For the last few years, since the Golden Trio had graduated, they had constantly fought for survival. They were perpetually on the move, never staying in one place for more than a week, and only that long if one of them was injured badly enough to need the time to recuperate. Every day, news of the deaths of friends and loved ones found them, wherever they were. For years, they worried about the people they had left behind (for their own safety) in an effort to end the war quickly and with as few casualties as possible. It didn't work.

Death Eater attacks had increased dramatically since the death of Dumbledore. The first to be attacked were the families of Muggle-born students. Voldemort went down the line, methodically. The ones with the youngest magical children were first. They couldn't fight back. Hermione's parents were the exception. Because she wasn't home, they were at the top of the mad man's list.

By that time the one year anniversary of Dumbledore's death rolled around, Voldemort had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic at almost every level and had several laws passed that made the restriction for underage magic penalties much more severe if the magic was performed in a Muggle neighborhood. The minimum penalty was expulsion from Hogwarts and a year in Azkaban. This meant that the Muggle-born students could not even protect their families when the Death Eaters attacked. The ones that tried were quickly made examples of. One even got Kissed. They claimed that he was trying to escape.

Naturally, because they openly opposed Voldemort, the Weasleys were among the first of the Pure-bloods to be targeted. The Dark Lord had come up with a new form of torture, or maybe it was an old form of torture? Either way, it was new for him. Instead of killing a person outright, he tried to turn them first. Perhaps he had realized that he would not have many people to rule if he kept killing them all. Perhaps he just liked toying with his victims.

Instead of hurting the person he was trying to 'persuade' physically, he attacked their emotions. He purposely targeted the most powerful witch or wizard in a family and gave them the choice to either join him or he would kill the people they held dear one at a time. For those without children, this generally meant a spouse or significant other, parents, grandparents, anyone he could lay hands on. For parents, however, it was much, much worse.

For parents, being targeted by Voldemort was the worst thing that could possibly happen. Children are usually thought of as the least powerful in a family and, subsequently, the least likely to be able to defend themselves. The first time the parents refused to join, Voldemort gave their youngest child to Fenrir Greyback and his pack of Werewolves and 'allowed' the parents to watch them play their sick and twisted games. None of the children survived the night, full moon or no.

If there was more than one child in a family, this was usually enough to convince the parents to join him, if only to prevent the same from happening to the rest of their children. Many simply gave in before he could threaten their children, hoping to keep them safe. There were a few exceptions. If Voldemort thought that the entire family was a threat, he simply had them disposed of. He didn't even bother to try to turn them.

No family was more of a threat than the Weasleys.

Having heard the rumors, when they learned that they were being targeted for extermination, Arthur and Molly Weasley decided to hide their family. It would have worked too, if they had been able to find Ron, Harry or even Hermione to be their secret keeper. As it was, they picked Great Aunt Muriel, thinking that Voldemort would never suspect her or even bother looking twice at an old woman.

Unknown to the Weasleys, Muriel had been a Death Eater since Voldemort's first reign of terror. They never stood a chance. Molly, Arthur, Ginny and Percy, who had just reconciled with his family, were all home that night. They said the light from the blaze could be seen in the town of Whimple, over 10 miles away.

A week later, Bill, Fleur and their new born daughter were attacked at St. Mungos moments after Fleur gave birth. That attack was devastating to the light side. Not only were Bill and Fleur lost, but Neville and Mrs. Longbottom, who were visiting Neville's parents, as well as over half of the St. Mungos Healers! Somehow, Death Eaters had bypassed the enhanced wards and heightened security to invade one of the last safe havens in the Wizarding world.

After that, Ron was never the same. Losing most of his family caused him to become much more fierce and unforgiving in his fighting style. He never aimed to stun or disarm again. Each shot was meant to do one thing. Kill. He became so good that when Death Eaters caught a glimpse of him on the battle field, they either ran with their tails tucked between their legs, or tried to severely outnumber him. Ron became one of the most ruthless and feared fighters on the side of the light.

Fred and George had abandoned their shop after Diagon Alley was attacked in broad daylight. They tried to defend the Alley, but they were soon out numbered and had no choice but to retreat. They joined Harry, Ron and Hermione in their search for the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes, keeping a full stock of their more dangerous inventions on hand at all times in a couple of shrunken multi-compartment trunks similar to Mad Eye Moody's. Harry and the Twins had rigged up a set of utility belts for the ones that were found to be the most useful in a battle situation and these belts were worn at all times. Sometimes, these pranks/jokes turned weapons were the only advantage the group had.

One of the most useful things the Twins came up with was a potion that could mimic the effects of the Animagus transformation. The inspiration for the potion actually came from their Canary Crèmes. After eating one, Ron had made an off handed comment about how useful being an animal could be if it was for more than five minutes. Once Fred and George had gotten over their awed shock that their brother could come up with something like that, they got to work. It only took them about a month to get it perfect. They never had time to come up with a name for it.

Because the group had to move around so much, they got to stay in many Wizarding homes that had either been abandoned when their owners had decided to flee Britain, or no longer had owners due to Death Eater attacks. Either way, in most cases, these homes were still fully furnished and quite a few had a library of sorts, or at least a few bookshelves.

Hermione, being the intellectual type anyway, reasoned that the previous owners had no more use for the books, so she started hoarding them away in another shrunken trunk, to be carried with them from place to place so they would always have research material. In the end, she had collected nearly 5,000 books from their various stops, including most of the surviving books from the Hogwarts Library.

She had even worked out a nifty charm that would summon the books, by subject, from the trunk whether or not it was still shrunk. All she had to do was think of the subject she needed to research, or the title, if she knew what book she wanted, say the incantation and the books appeared neatly stacked.

She really was a clever Witch.

Yet another trunk was used to carry around potions ingredients and various healing and disguise potions, including the Animagus potion. When the group found things of this nature in a house, they added them to this trunk. Hermione was, of course their potions brewer, but Ron was their designated Healer, though they all knew quite a bit about it, as he had shown the most talent for it at the very beginning. As Healer, Ron carried the last trunk with him wherever they went so he would always have it close to hand.

One night, about 2 years before the final battle, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, the last remaining members of the Resistance, had just settled in to yet another abandoned house when the intruder alarms that they set up each night went off, raising an all mighty racket and sending the group into a flurry of activity. Within seconds they were ready to fight.

They all fought bravely and, in the end, managed to drive off the remaining Death Eaters. Hermione had stifled a sob when she found the red headed twins staring glassily up at the ceiling. Ron had howled his anguish at loosing his last remaining family. Quickly, Harry and Ron each gathered a twin and Apparated to yet another 'safe house'.

To say the Trio was devastated would be a gross understatement. They allowed themselves time to grieve for their brothers, for that is what they were to all of them. The next day, after they had relieved them of the magical trunks, they performed the traditional Weasley funeral, which was a modified version of an ancient Roman custom.

Early in the morning, before the sky had even begun to lighten, The Golden Trio purified the bodies of Fred and George, washing them and anointing them with oil. They dressed them in the best clothes they could find and laid them out on a single wooden funeral pyre. Ron, as their only remaining relative, then kissed each of their foreheads and placed a Galleon over each eye for Charon, the boatman of the River Styx. Then, as the first rays of the sun lit the morning sky, Ron and Harry each fired _Incendio_ at the dry wood of the pyre. The three stood there until the final ember was out, each crying silent tears and saying farewell to their friends and brothers.

The Trio had become even closer after the deaths of the twins than they had been and eventually the three had become so much more than friends. Nearly a year later, Hermione had burst into the room where Ron and Harry were planning their next guerrilla attack. She had been crying and the boys were immediately on their feet, wondering what could have happened. She had burst into tears once more and told them that she was pregnant and that they were going to be daddies!

They had stared at her for a moment before meeting each other's eyes in shock. Then their faces had split into wide grins and they both rushed Hermione to hold her and comfort her. She was understandably upset. With the way the war was going, they couldn't afford to have her out of commission... much less carrying a crying baby around on ambush attacks! The boys had simply held her and let her tell them her fears. By the time she had calmed down, she was utterly exhausted and they'd all gone to bed that night, thinking about the future, even more determined to see the end of Voldemort.

Less than a month later, they were again surprised by Death Eaters. Somehow they'd been found and Voldemort wasted no time sending his servants to finish off the last of the resistance. Hermione was caught in a three-way Avada Kedavra. The boys had watched their lover and the mother of their child crumple to the ground, all life gone from her beautiful brown eyes.

That night, 50 Death Eaters were ruthlessly slaughtered. Neither Harry nor Ron remembered much about the moments after Hermione's murder, but replaying it in a Penseive showed Harry glowing with an inner fire. The light had spread from him, doing nothing to Ron, but each time it touched someone bearing the Dark Mark, that person had been literally turned inside out. When Harry faltered, a strand of light linked Ron and Harry together and he seemed to draw power from Ron to finish off the remaining Death Eaters.

Too late to save their love, they had found _"The power the Dark Lord knows not"._

The next day, they once again performed the Weasley Funeral ritual. Hermione hadn't legally married Ron or Harry, but they had each dedicated their lives to each other and forming a bond that didn't need a piece of paper or approval from the Voldemort-run Ministry of Magic. They were married in their hearts and that was all that mattered.

The last year before the final battle was the hardest for Harry and Ron. Without Hermione there to keep them focused, they'd become sloppy and had narrowly escaped with their lives more times than they could count.

They practiced with Harry's power and found that it healed people without the Mark. The only downside to it was that Harry couldn't heal himself. But he could heal Ron, and he did... more than once. It got to where Harry didn't need to draw magic from Ron anymore. His power core had increased exponentially each time they had used his power. It almost acted as a magic exercise.

Just before the final battle, Harry and Ron had found the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Because he had nearly destroyed Hogwarts during his takeover, it was not a safe place for them to be for very long. Even so, they had come to see if they could find anything that had been left behind. Sort of a scavenge mission.

They were startled by the Grey Lady popping up from a pile of rocks that had been the ceiling of the Great Hall at. The ghost had told them to follow her and she quickly led them to the seventh floor corridor which had, miraculously, survived the fall of Hogwarts, though it was several floors down from where it was originally.

The Grey Lady then told them about Ravenclaw's diadem and where to find it. They had immediately started pacing and were through the door to the room of requirement as soon it opened.

The huge room was exactly as Harry remembered it from his sixth year when he hid the Half Blood Prince's potion's book. Remembering Hermione's trunk of books, he took it out of his pocket, enlarged it and summoned all the books to the trunk, nearly doubling Hermione's collection and completely filling the seven-compartment trunk. He had simply shrugged his shoulders when Ron gave him a sad look.

After the books had been commandeered and the trunk re-shrunk, they had been able to see over the piles and spotted the old wardrobe and the bust on top with no difficulties. Having made their way through the room to stand before the wardrobe, Ron had pulled out one of the twins' trunks and rummaged around for a moment or two, and finally come up with a small vial of potion. It was the last of the Horcrux dissolving solution that Fred and George had invented to get rid of the pieces of Voldemort's soul without harming the priceless relics that housed them.

Just seconds after Ron had poured the solution onto the diadem and the piece of Voldemort's soul was released, the walls of the room had begun to shake, making piles fall left and right, nearly crushing them under the junk of generations past.

They did the only thing they could have done. They ran.

They stumbled onto the front lawn mere seconds before the entire castle came crashing down. When the dust settled, they found themselves surrounded once more by black robed, masked Death Eaters. Knowing they were severely outnumbered, Ron immediately put up the strongest shielding spell he knew and Harry launched into the meditative state that would allow him to use the power locked inside him.

Within seconds, the majority of Voldemort's forces were treated to the same fate that had befallen their brethren on the night of Hermione's death. Those without the Dark Mark were taken care of quickly and efficiently.

They were still outnumbered almost 10 to 1, but their years of battle experience served them well. Soon enough, they were the last ones standing. They hadn't noticed the lone figure standing on the hill behind them until it was nearly too late. Ron, turning to survey the damage, had seen movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he knew it, a bolt of sickly green light was racing towards Harry. It would have hit him in the middle of his back if Ron hadn't pushed him out of the way, making the ultimate sacrifice for his last remaining friend and lover.

Harry remembered turning around to ask why Ron had pushed him and being confronted by the sightless blue eyes of his best friend staring out into infinity. Horrified emerald eyes rose to meet those of the Dark Lord on the hill. Silent tears ran in rivers down his face, leaving tracks in the blood and dirt.

Now, nearly an hour later, he stood over the corpse of his greatest foe and wondered how he could possibly move on with his life. Taking one last look around the body strewn battlefield in which he had lost his final companion, he raised his wand once more against his fallen enemy. The body burst into flames and soon there was nothing left of Lord Voldemort.

* * *

Several months after the final battle, Witches and Wizards began returning to their homes and coming out of hiding. Everyone rejoiced in the demise of the worst Dark Lord in history. Everyone, that is, except Harry Potter, the-man-who-conquered. While every one wanted to hold huge parties in his honor and thank him for making the Wizarding world safe once more, all he wanted was to be left alone.

On this particular morning, Harry sat at the kitchen table of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, nursing his morning cup of tea. He jumped and spilled his tea when he heard a tapping at the window. He looked over and saw a plain looking barn owl patiently waiting to be let in. Wearily he rose from the table, using his wand to clean up the tea and sending his cup to the sink before flicking it at the window to allow the bird to enter.

The owl perched on the back of the chair next to him and patiently held out its leg so Harry could take the letter from it. Once its mission had been accomplished, the bird flew out the window and Harry was alone once again.

Turning the letter over, he recognized the Gringotts crest. Curious now, he broke the wax seal and began to read.

_Dear Mister Potter,_

_We at Gringotts would like to offer our condolences. We realize that this is long over due in some cases. Your presence is requested for the reading of the Wills of Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, William and Fleur Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Remus and Nymphadora Lupin and Hermione Granger. Since you are the only remaining beneficiary of the above mentioned, we are available at your convenience. Please see any Gringotts Manager._

_Sincerely,_

_Gorvin G. Gravelhook_

_Manager_

_Gringotts Bank _

_Diagon Alley _

Having nothing better to do, Harry pulled on his hooded cloak, making sure the hood covered his face, and left the house, Apparating to the Gringotts lobby.

He walked slowly up to a free teller and requested one of the Managers on duty. Minutes later, he was ensconced in a richly appointed office sipping tea while he waited for the Manager to come with the wills.

The office door opened to reveal a wizened old Goblin wearing a three piece suit and carrying a folder almost as thick as one of Lockhart's books under one arm and a box that rattled slightly under the other. "Ah, Mr. Potter! I confess I wasn't expecting you so soon. My name is Gorvin Gravelhook. I am the executor of these wills."

Setting aside his tea cup, Harry rose to shake the Goblin's hand saying, "Yes, well, I was not doing anything terribly important when I received your letter."

"Good, good. I appreciate you seeing to this matter in a timely way." Gravelhook shuffled through the papers until he found what appeared to be his notes. "Now, to business. These are the last wills and testimonies of Messrs Black, Dumbledore, Weasley, Weasley and Weasley and Misses Weasley and Granger as well as Mr. and Mrs. Lupin.(1)

"You are named as the sole beneficiary of Messrs Black, Dumbledore and Ronald Weasley. These parchments simply state that you accept these estates and agree to any terms that may be placed on them. Please sign here, here and here."

Gravelhook slid a piece of parchment to Harry to sign. Before he picked up the pen, however, Harry had a question.

"What terms are there?"

Gravelhook shuffled through the parchments now littering his desk. "This is most irregular, Mr. Potter, but there don't seem to be any terms or conditions to any of your inheritances."

Satisfied that he wasn't going to have to give up part of his magical powers or his ability to have children (not that he wanted to without Hermione), Harry picked up the silver tipped quill and signed his name to the bottom of each paper. By the time he was done, Gravelhook was talking once more.

"Several of the Weasleys did not have wills. I believe that neither Frederick nor George Weasley had wills, nor did Percival Weasley. The laws of inheritance clearly state that their possession would revert to their oldest living relative. Therefore, as Mister Ronald Weasley was the last of his family, he inherited all of their possessions as well as his parents', sister's and half of Mister William Weasley's estate. The other half of William Weasley's estate goes to his wife's family. In his will, Ronald Weasley stated that everything should be left to you in the event that none of the Weasleys make it through the war."

The Goblin pushed yet another pile of papers towards Harry to sign. By then, his eyes were suspiciously moist.

"Next, we have the will of Miss Hermione Granger. Again, everything has been left to you and Ronald Weasley." He pushed another parchment towards Harry who signed it with a slightly shaking hand.

"Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Remus Lupin have also left everything to you. I understand that they had a small child, but that he also perished."

By that time, Harry was fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He nodded to indicate that Teddy Lupin had, in fact, been killed at the same time as his parents. Sorrow filled him when he thought of his young god son and it must have shown on his face.

"You are understandably upset, so I will not burden you with reading the actual wills. You may, of course, take a copy with you to read at your leisure." He began straightening the papers again and handed the folder to Harry. "These are all copies. You are welcome to take them with you. I have taken the liberty of conducting an inventory of each of your vaults. There are several pages worth for you to look through."

Gravelhook stood and said, "I must return to work. Feel free to use this office for as long as you need."

Harry thanked the Goblin and was soon left alone. Over the next several hours, Harry discovered that he was the owner of several private homes as well as part owner of several businesses. He decided that it was time to find a place to live. Or, at least try to live.

Gathering the folder and the box, in which he had discovered keys to all of his properties, he left the office to begin his tour. First stop, Albus Dumbledore's family home.

* * *

It took nearly six months for Harry to see each house and visit each vault, but he was done. It didn't take much thought on the matter before he chose Potter Manor as his home. The place was huge. And empty. It was just what he needed. Not to mention it had a huge library for all of Hermione's books.

He had found more books in the vaults, especially Dumbledore's. He removed all the books from the vaults and houses and put them in his library at Potter Manor, making sure to keep Hermione's books separate from the others. With all of the books assembled in one place, he was not surprised to find that he had roughly triple the amount of books at his disposal than the Hogwarts library had had. This may have been helped by the fact that Hermione had done her best to liberate all the books from Hogwarts after its fall.

He also found furniture in the vaults which he used to furnish several rooms in Potter Manor. He came to realize eventually that most of the furniture in the Potter family vault had probably come from Potter Manor in the first place, so he was really only returning it to it's proper place.

Harry cried when he went through the Twin's vault. For some reason, they had felt the need to leave their invention notes and recipes in their vault. He now had everything he needed to recreate all of their joke items. Every now and then, he would go down to his lab at Potter Manor and make a Portable Swamp or Wildfire Whiz-bang. He would set them off whenever he felt the need to remember the better times.

Eventually, everything was sorted out. Harry had the Goblins transfer all the non magical money and gems and such into one vault and packed the other things into the trunks that had served him and his friends so well in the war. He then made arrangements for someone to supply him with groceries and necessary items so he wouldn't have to make any public appearances and, with all of his loose ends tied up in a neat little bow, Harry Potter disappeared from the Wizarding world and was not seen again for over ten years.

During those years, Harry spent every waking moment reading in his library or sorting through the things he had inherited. Among these things were weapons, legal papers, portraits, clothes, magical devices, jewelry (both magical and mundane) and other odds and ends from generations gone by. He first went through the papers, learning about the documented weapons in the process. Many had charms and spells on them that would have been extremely useful in the war, if they had only known about them.

He paid homage to Hermione's memory by reading every single book they had collected, even the duplicates. He read about all of the Hogwarts subjects and became an expert in each of them, even potions. He became adept at using wandless and wordless magic and, even though he would never need it again, he also studied Occlumency and Legilimency. He completed the Animagus transformation without the Twins' potion and learned what he could about using his Animagus abilities to mimic those of the Metamorphmagus.

When he was done with Hermione's books, he made his way through the rest. The Black family books were, of course some of the darkest in his collection, but he read and studied them just the same. In the end, if he had cared to, he could have taken the mastery tests and gotten every single question right, becoming the youngest master of multiple fields in history.

Each night, after he could read no more, he would sit in front of the fire and drink himself into a stupor, just so he could forget for a couple of hours. Indeed, this was often the only way he could have a dreamless sleep. He had developed a tolerance for the sleeping potions, so they no longer worked for him. This was the best he could do, short of knocking himself out.

One night in a drunken rage, sick with self recrimination and blaming himself for not killing the madman quickly enough to save his loved ones, Harry threw glasses, books, and knick-knacks and anything else he could lay hands on at the walls, swept things off tables and, in general, destroyed the parlor of Potter Manor. He finally wore himself out and, collapsing onto the rug, gave in to his soul crushing despair. Deep, heart wrenching sobs tore through him, keeping him from drawing a full breath. Tears coursed down his unshaven face, mingling with the sweat of his exertions. Finally, after purging his raging emotions, Harry passed out among the wreckage.

The next morning, Harry awoke with a massive hangover to the evidence of his depravation. He started picking things up and putting them back where they belonged making use of his wand to set the room to rights. About an hour and 50 _Reparo_ charms later, he had the room looking as it had the night before. Just as he was leaving the room to get himself cleaned up, he noticed one last book that had somehow fallen under the sofa.

Bending down to retrieve it, he read the title, almost out of habit.

'_Portals to the Past'  
__By Portia Tempest_

'_That's funny. I don't remember having this book.'_ Harry sat back on the sofa and opened the thin, leather bound book, hoping to lose himself in it so he would have a moment's respite from the memories that had been crowding in on him since the night before. Distractedly, he noticed that there were no identifying marks that would tell him who had owned this book before. No Hogwarts crest, no Seal of the House of Potter, Black or Dumbledore… nothing at all. There was just the title and the author's name. The first page had a hand written note from the author.

_Dear Reader,_

It began,

_If you can see this book, then congratulations are in order, or perhaps condolences. Only those with a pure heart and a true desire to see things put to right can see this book. That being said, I urge you to keep an open mind while reading the pages within, but make sure you think for yourself as well. The knowledge found between these covers is not to be trifled with. It can be dangerous and if you chose to follow this path, the road ahead may be fraught with many perils._

_With these warnings, I wish you fair travels and good luck. You will undoubtedly need it._

_Sincerely,_

_Portia Tempest_

Finding this odd, but needing a distraction anyway, he ignored the chill of foreboding and read through the first couple of paragraphs. He nearly dropped the book in shock.

_Have you ever wished you could turn back then hands of time? Go back to the point where everything seemed to fall apart and do it better the next time? While most scholars would tell you that it is impossible, I am here to tell you different and to show you how to open the portals to the past._

_There are many different types of portals to choose from. The most common is now employed by the Ministry of Magic and used to create Time Turners. These portals transport the user's body back in time, up to 24 hours in the most advanced models. While this is an effective form of Travel, not much can be changed and with the distrust inherent in most magical people, it is extremely dangerous to be seen by your past self. There have been several reports of people killing themselves or worse._

Harry remembered Hermione saying something like that in their third year. He blinked his eyes rapidly to keep the tears from falling and kept reading.

_Another form of Travel involves sending things back in time. This form is generally used to send letters of warning and such back to the younger self. Naturally, this form is only useful if the recipient knows what is going on. If not, many times they will simply disregard the warnings of their future selves, believing it to be someone's idea of a joke, and end up in the same situation that they were trying to prevent in the first place._

"No help there." Harry muttered to himself.

_The last form that I will be discussing in this guide is the least known. While it is the most helpful in terms of righting past wrongs, it is also the most difficult and dangerous._

_As you may know, the soul, that which makes us who we are, is only anchored to our bodies as long as we draw breath. In specific cases, such as when ghosts are made, the soul will remain on this plane of existence even after the body has ceased to function. This phenomenon will be employed in the Travel of the Soul ritual. In this ritual, the castor's soul may be sent back to any time in that person's life... with all memories and magical powers in tact._

Harry's eyebrows crept up into his hair line and his breath hitched as his eyes flew over the page. Before he knew it, he had finished the book and sat on the sofa, staring into space. He felt something stir in his chest… something that felt suspiciously like hope.

* * *

Author's Note:

I know that I have not finished Temptation of Time yet, trust me, it's still alive… I'm just waiting on some reviews (hint, hint). If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it… not that I'm biased or anything . Naturally, I will finish it someday (probably not soon, but we'll see.), but until then, this little plot bunny has been hopping around my house, making a mess and generally cluttering up my life for the past month or so. Therefore, I have confined it to the computer! Ha! Take that, plot bunny! Seriously, have you ever owned a rabbit? They're disgusting! Very soft, but very dirty! Bleh. Never again!

Just so you know… reviews make the world go round. And they make chapters magically lengthen and appear much faster than they normally would. I'm just saying.

I've put a lot of detail into this chapter (12 pages in Word!) so it could either be a stand alone one shot (though I'd really like him to use the portals) or I could continue it. Let me know in your review if you think I should continue or not.

**I've had a lot of people tell me that HxHrxR squicks! THIS IS NOTa threesome fic! This will be HxHr eventually. **

**Please read all of the chapters (not just scanning) before flaming. If you flame about something that isn't in this story, I will laugh at you. Publicly.****  
**

Thanks for reading!

AF Marauder

(1) (…Messrs Black, Dumbledore, Weasley, Weasley and Weasley and Misses Weasley …) In case you couldn't follow it, that was Arthur, Bill, Ron and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley's will was combined with her husbands and, for some reason, Ginny had a will… don't ask me why… I do not know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Portals to the Past**

**Chapter 2**

Harry spent the next month studying the strange book he had found in the Parlor. He had started making plans in the back of his mind the moment he read what the book was about. Not only would he be able to fix all of his past mistakes, but he would be able to save everyone he cared about. Now, he just had to figure out how to do it.

The rituals were actually pretty simple. Well, simple for a man who had spent the last nine years doing nothing but studying the most advanced magical theory and practicing the most difficult spells in the world. That is to say that the rituals in that thin little book were immensely complicated for a normal person. But since when was Harry Potter ever considered a 'normal person'?

The most difficult thing about the rituals, by far, was the Arithmancy equations needed to direct the Portals. Harry had never seen such difficult equations. Thankfully, he had studied Arithmancy during his self exile. He had to use his full name, the date and time he wanted to return to and the location of where he was at the time he wanted to return to, among other things.

He had decided go back to midnight, exactly one week before his 11th birthday. He would have gone back to his birthday, but he didn't know the exact location of that hut on the rock. Ultimately it would be easier to use the Dursley's oh-so-normal house, more specifically, the cupboard under the stairs in which he had spent ten of his formative years. Another week with his relatives would not hurt anything (he hoped).

The last chapter of the book dealt with combining different portals. Actually, it dealt with combining the last two portals. Though the 'time turner' portal _could_ be combined with one of the other two, technically the first two were already combined and the portal to send things back was just a by product, an off shoot if you will, of the original. When you sent your body back, you took whatever you had on you at the time with you, and if you wanted to combine it with the 'soul portal', you might as well just do the soul portal by itself. Really, if you're going to kill yourself to go back in time, you should at least go farther than a few hours.

For that was exactly what Harry was going to have to do. In order to send his soul back to his younger self's body, the portal would first have to separate his soul from his older body. True, he could just create a Horcrux diary as Tom Riddle had done so long ago, but that would make him little better than Voldemort. Indeed, it would make him exactly the same as his long dead enemy. No, he could not condone using the life force of his younger self to 'resurrect' his older self in the past.

As an added bonus for his sense of right and wrong, when his soul merged with its younger counterpart, so would their magical cores. Harry would be twice as magically powerful this time around. He would just have to remember not to get too cocky.

It was theorized by Ms Tempest that once the soul of the traveler was sent back in time, either the original time line would cease to exist, or it would fracture at the point of return, making an entirely new timeline. This, she said, would explain all of the different Alternate Realities. If other people had sent their souls back to change part of the future, and if the realities split at that point, there could be millions of them. There could be one where the Roman Empire never fell. There could be one where Hitler triumphed! The possibilities were endless.

Endlessly frightening!

One little decision could mean the end of the world! As someone once said, "If a man looks right, the world lives, but if he looks left instead, the world ends." They call it the Chaos theory. One small thing being changed could spell disaster.

Harry knew this. He read the theories, studied the possibilities and made sure he knew the consequences of his actions before he decided to disregard it all. After all, what could possibly be worse than being completely alone in the world, feeling hopelessly guilty about leading your friends and family to their deaths and not doing anything to try to rectify the situation? He had to at least try.

So, not only was Harry planning to send his soul back to, hopefully, merge with his younger self, but because there would be no more Potters in this time line to inherit, and the possibility that this world would cease to exist, he planned to take everything he owned with him as well (minus the properties, naturally). The wealth of knowledge that was, at that very moment, residing in his Library would be immeasurably useful, and though he knew money did not make one happy, it certainly made things easier. He wasn't planning on being under anyone's thumb if he could help it.

The New Moon is a time for new beginnings and, according to the book, the perfect time to complete the rituals. While he could have begun immediately, Harry decided to do the thing right. Several more months would not affect anything and would allow him to prepare more fully.

He started by making a timeline. Everything that happened in his life, the good and the bad, was written on a parchment scroll. It seemed expectant, as if it was eager for Harry to begin making his changes. On a second scroll, he wrote a different timeline. This would be his goal. First things first, though. He would be getting away from the Dursleys as quick as he possibly could.

He used the rest of his time wisely, and on one particular day even went so far as to venture into Diagon Alley.

* * *

Harry looked around the busy alley. He hadn't been here since the reading of the wills nearly ten years ago and was suitably impressed with the way things were rebuilt. The happy, carefree laughter of children filled the air, smiles were on several faces and the dark, depressed feeling of yester year's Diagon Alley was no where to be found. In its place was the feeling of wonder and excitement that Harry hadn't felt here since the summer before his third year.

Walking down the street, he couldn't help but feel that this was the way it was supposed to be. Without the threat of Voldemort looming over the magical community, people could go about their business feeling safe and secure. This is what he had been fighting for all along. This is what he would make sure of once more.

His determination once more firmly in place, he made his way to the magical luggage store that was situated just next to _Terrortours Travel Agency_. Harry knew the owner of this store quite well as he was the one to provide the resistance with their multi-compartment trunks. When Diagon Alley was attacked, he was one of the few that tried to fight back and he joined the resistance when his family was murdered before his eyes.

The tinkle of a bell above the door announced his entrance. A moment later, a large, balding man sporting an extremely bushy mustache came through a doorway leading to the back of the shop. He was extremely muscular, with arms the size of small tree trunks that looked as if they could crush a person before they could scream. All in all, he looked extremely fierce, but the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth belied his amiable nature.

He caught sight of Harry and beamed. His voice thundered through the shop, a deep, rich baritone, "Why, bless my soul! It's Harry Potter!"

Harry's face split into his first real smile in over ten years and he laughed. "Hello, John." He walked towards the much larger man and shook his hand warmly. "Been a long time, eh?"

"A long time, he says! A long time?" He still had a hold of Harry's hand and used it to pull him in for a warm, brotherly hug, "It's been damn near forever!" After much back slapping, he held the Wizarding world's hero at arm's length. "You look good, Potter. Where in blazes have you been?"

Harry gave a rusty chuckle. "Oh I've been around. You know, here and there, mostly there. How've you been, John?"

"Good, good. Since you took care of that slimy bastard, things have been pretty peaceful around here." He looked piercingly at his war time comrade. "So, what can I do for you, or is this a social call?"

Harry smiled, slowly getting used to the unfamiliar expression. "A little of both, actually. I wanted to catch up with you, but I need several new trunks and I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather get them from than you."

"Well, I'd be happy to help in any way I can. How are those old trunks holding up?"

Harry cringed. "Er… they're not, actually." Seeing the larger man's raised eyebrow, he hurried to elaborate. "You see, whenever I looked at those trunks, all I could think about were the Twins, Ron and Hermione. I'm afraid I smashed them to bits years ago just so I wouldn't have to look at them anymore."

John nodded in sympathy. "I would've done the same, lad." His mustache twitched as his lips curved into a sad smile, his features softening in the face of his friend's confession. "How about this, then, you tell me what you need and we can talk while I charm the trunks for you."

Harry agreed and followed him into the back where his workshop was set up. When they were both settled into comfortable chairs, and John had a Parch Pad and quill ready, Harry began telling him what he wanted.

"Let's see… I'm going to need at least two… no, three. Each trunk needs to be feather light no matter what's in them. I'm going to be carrying all of them around at the same time and they're going to have a lot of stuff in them, so I don't want to be weighed down. I'll need built in wandless shrinking charms that are keyed to my magical signature and locking and security charms keyed to the same. I don't want anyone getting in unless I let them and if they do get in somehow, I don't want them to be able to get out."

He paused for a moment, thinking. "The first trunk will be for WWW items."

John nodded, his mustache twitching. He knew all too well what needed to go into a WWW trunk. Some of the Wheezes were particularly dangerous. "I'd heard you got Fred and George's notes." He cleared his throat, "So, besides being impervious to fire, water and Hogwarts curriculum curses, hexes and jinxes, you'll be wanting about 20 different compartments so you don't blow yourself up if something breaks open that might react badly with other Wheezes.

He scribbled furiously on his Parch Pad as he continued to rattle off the specifications for the WWW trunk. "Each compartment will be expanded to about 100 times their normal size with shelves lining the walls and a ladder to get in and out of the trunk. You'll also be wanting the stabilizer charm so things don't shift, right?" He saw Harry nod. "Okay, anything else on that one?"

Harry smiled and shook his head, amazed that after all these years, his friend had remembered everything that they had put into the original trunks. "That's it, John. Think that one can be done before I leave the shop?"

He waived his hand as if to dispel Harry's concerns. "Oh, yea, it'll get it done. No problem. That one might take me about half an hour, tops. That many locks have a lot of keys, so well just do a hand circle to make it easier. All you'd have to do then is put your hand in the circle and say which compartment you want."

Harry agreed and John finished taking notes on his Parch Pad, then looked up expectantly. "Next?"

"The next one will be used to store important papers that I don't want to get damaged. We could do a hand circle on that one too. It should have five compartments with archival charms built in along with climate regulation charms. For the most part if will be staying in a Gringotts type vault, but I want it impervious to practically everything." He thought for a second before adding, "If you could make it impervious to Fiend Fyre as well that would be a plus. You know. Just in case."

John gave a mirthless little snort. "Yea, we know all about 'just in case' don't we, Harry?"

"Indeed we do, friend. Indeed we do." Harry's answering smile didn't quite reach his eyes

John cleared his throat again. "Do you want any expansion charms on that one?

Harry's eyes cleared and he shook his head, "Nah. If I change my mind, I can always get them added later, right?"

John laughed, "Of course. That one shouldn't be too difficult either. A couple of environment regulation and preservation charms is all. Well, that and the impervious spell. I don't have anything to protect against Fiend Fyre," he scratched his chin, "but I do have one that will protect against every other kind of fire including the fire of a Chinese Fireball. I don't think anyone's invented a spell to protect against Fiend Fyre yet." He furrowed his brow in thought for a moment. "I've got a fiver out front. It won't be too hard to just add the charms. Might take ten, twenty minutes tops."

Harry waited while John scribbled a few more notes. When he looked up again, Harry continued. "The last one is the one I'm expecting to pay out of the nose for. Somehow, I get the feeling that you may want to retire after this one… and knowing you, you'll charge me enough to be able to!"

John's deep belly laugh filled the small back shop. "Merlin, boy! Nothing could be that bad."

Harry shook his head and smiled at his friend. "You know better than to tempt fate like that, John."

The bald man chuckled. "Alright, go on. Tell me what you want and I'll decide for myself if I'm going to want to retire after wards."

Harry took a deep breath. "Okay, on the outside, the trunk should look like a higher end Hogwarts trunk. Nothing too terribly fancy, but it should look like it cost about the same as something that, say, a Malfoy would buy." He saw John nod his head. The look on his face told Harry that he thought it would be easy so far. He just smiled to himself.

"I want eight compartments but only one key lock which will open the first compartment. I want that compartment to look like a normal school trunk. Again, nothing special. I don't even want any kind of security features on the first compartment other than a normal lock. If someone wants to get into it and snoop around, let them. It's a decoy anyway."

"The other seven compartments should open like a high security Gringotts vault. Like the others, these seven compartments should have a hand circle and only open for my magical signature unless I key someone else into the security features. The hand circle should be discrete enough not to draw too much attention. Just an outline would be best. Make it part of the decoration or something."

"The second compartment is where this gets tricky. I want a three bedroom, two bath flat with a full sized kitchen, a dining room and a living room with a fire place." He chuckled at his friends gob smacked expression, but he wasn't done yet.

"The fire place should be capable of floo chatting at the very least and the Master bedroom should have its own bathroom." He grinned, "I also want the cupboards and fridge to stay fully stocked with food staples. I want to be able to live out of this trunk."

Harry pulled out a rough sketch of what he wanted his flat to look like. "You don't have to worry about furnishing it, I'll do that myself.

He gave John a moment to assimilate his instructions and to take notes. "The third compartment needs to be roughly three times the size Hogwarts library used to be with 20-foot vaulted ceilings and floor to ceiling bookcases with a track ladder to reach the higher shelves. I've got a little over five million books and I may end up getting more, I don't know yet." Harry pulled out another sketch, this time of his Library compartment.

John shook his head in amazement at the thought of all those books and, when he could form a coherent thought again, asked, "Do you want archival charms on this compartment too? It might be a good idea what with all the books."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. He hadn't thought of that, but it was a good idea. Some of his books were quite old. "I like it. Let's also add a charm that won't allow flame of any kind and another that won't allow fluids." It wouldn't do for any of his books to get damaged, and you never know what might happen.

"Okay," said John as he finished his notes on Harry's third compartment, affixing his sketch to the page with a sticking charm as he had with the previous sketch. "What's in the fourth?"

Harry smirked. "The fourth compartment is the main reason I'm going to need a very powerful feather light charm on this trunk. I want a Gringotts vault in my fourth compartment."

John arched an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. "Why would you want to have a vault in your trunk?" His eyes widened comically. "You're not going to…" He trailed off.

"I see you know me too well." Harry sighed. "I am, indeed going to keep all of my money, down to the last Knut, in my trunk. It would be much more convenient than having to go to the bank every time I need some cash. Other than that, I can't tell you why, so don't ask. I just need to know if you can do it."

"Well, yea! I can do it, of course." He still looked like he wanted to question Harry, but somehow refrained. "Exactly how big are we talking? I know you're rich, but I don't know the extent of it."

Harry thought for a moment. How much room would he need? "You know, I haven't been to my vaults in almost ten years. Perhaps it's time to take a look." He paused, as if unsure of his friend's response to his next suggestion. "Why don't you come with me to Gringotts? Then you can decide how big to make the trunk's vault."

John, being a half blood, knew both Muggle and Wizarding views on the sanctity of money. People from neither culture would ever think to suggest such a thing. Most people would have issues showing their vault to their mother, much less a friend they hadn't seen in over a decade. He stuttered out his agreement and, though he didn't think of his friend that way, he was suddenly intensely curious about what he might see in the vault of 'the great Harry Potter'.

Harry, knowing that he must have just shocked his friend, waited until John stopped doing his gold fish impression and looked like he was ready to continue. "The fifth compartment will be set up like a Muggle art gallery. I plan on keeping several priceless works of art there and I want them to be properly displayed." He took out yet another sketch to show the trunk maker.

"Now, compartment six will be used as a training room. I'm sure you remember how I train." Seeing John's nodded affirmation and sympathetic wince, he went on, saying, "I'll need two dueling platforms, and space to the side for some Muggle training equipment. I want a whole back wall taken up by several cabinets for my weapons. I want 16 Auror grade dueling dummies, half black, half white, and a wardrobe to hold two more dummies that will be wearing my Battle Robes."

He handed over yet another sketch, "I'll need several safety charms around this room. I'd really rather not get too seriously hurt during training, so cushioning charms on the floors and walls as well as impervious charms on the walls to protect the trunk."

This time he didn't pause for John to catch his breath. "Compartment seven will be a fully operational potions lab. It will need to have ventilation charms, fume dispelling charms, charms against fire, charms against potion damage and spells to keep the floor clean." He smiled wryly. "There's nothing worse than trying to put the finishing touches on an extremely complex potion while your feet are slipping and sliding around."

John just nodded and made non committal noises as his quill flew frantically across his Parch Pad. He didn't even look up when Harry passed him the sketch for his Potions Lab. Harry knew that the next compartment would be a hard sell. Some of the things he wanted were just barely legal and some weren't legal at all.

When the trunk maker finally stopped his hurried quill scratches, he looked up once more at Harry, waiting for his specifications for the final compartment.

Harry took a deep breath, pulled out his last sketch and just plunged right into it. "The last compartment will be a prison."

"I beg your pardon? A prison?"

"You heard right. Where I'm going, there are still Death Eaters at large. They need to be stopped. I want 18 jail cells in the last compartment. Each will have a cot and a bucket. Nothing else. The floors and walls will be stone, Muggle cement if you can swing it and I want every charm that's on the Ministry holding cells to be on each cell, including the anti-Animagus charm."

John was temporarily rendered speechless. "H-Harry!" he stuttered, "I don't even know where to begin to find out what charms they put on those cells." His mouth dropped open when his friend handed him a list of charms and another rough sketch of the Prison compartment.

He read:

Anti-Apparation

Anti-Disapparation

Anti-Portkey

Anti-Suicide

Anti-Owl

Anti-Tracking

Anti-Tracing

Magic Dampening

Sound Proofing

Air Circulation

Health Monitoring

One Way Door

Anti-Animagus

"Okay, so you have the list of spells. Harry, I must tell you that this is extremely illegal." He could see his words had no effect on the other man, so he tried again. "So, what, you're just going to lock them up in an enchanted trunk and hope they don't escape?"

"No. I will eventually hand them over to the Ministry for judgment. But until I can do that safely and be assured that they will not go free, I will keep them in my own personal prison."

"I don't know, Harry. Some of these spells seems a little … well, dark."

Harry just shook his head. "If there's one thing I've learned in my studies it is this; there is no such think as light and dark spells. A spell is what it is. It is what it's used for and the intent behind it that makes it light or dark, good or evil."

He could see that his friend was still struggling with the ethical ramifications of what he was asking him to do. He sighed. "If you don't want to risk it, I'll understand. Just set up the last compartment with 18 eight foot by eight foot rooms. We'll call them 'guest quarters'. I'll take care of the rest."

"It's not that I don't want to… well, actually, you're right, I don't, but each spell and charm that is cast can be traced back to its originator. I don't know that I want to be brought up on charges if someone happens to find out what you're up to." He let out a sigh, "In any case, you are magically stronger than any Wizard I know. There is always a chance that spells of this type could fail without routine reinforcement."

Harry nodded his understanding. "True. And, of course, you will not be with me to handle the reinforcements. It's probably better that I do it myself."

John let out a huge sigh of relief. He thanked his lucky stars that his friend was being so understanding of his reservations. If Harry had pushed the issue, he knew he would have folded like an unstable house of cards. He had dodged the proverbial Avada Kedavra and was left wondering where Harry was going and what he was up to.

Thinking he had better double check, John started going over all of Harry's specifications one more time. As he spoke, he referred to Harry's sketches and used them to clarify.

"Alright, we've got a high end trunk with eight compartments in all; number one is a normal looking school-type trunk with a visible lock and no other protections. The other compartments will have no visible lock and will be accessible only with your magical signature, like a Gringotts high security vault."

Harry nodded and John took a deep breath, "Compartment number two is a three bedroom, two bath flat with a Kitchen, Dining Room and Living room with a fire place connected to the Floo network and food conjuring charms on the fridge and cabinets. You do realize, of course that there won't be any windows, right? It is, after all, still a trunk."

Harry nodded and said, "Yes, but I plan on buying several faux windows. There's a new company that has taken the idea from the Muggles and expanded it. They're surprisingly realistic and can give off imitation sunlight as well. I believe a few of their clients have used them to create conservatories and green houses in their basements."

"Really?" John looked shocked for a moment. "Well, that would be something. And it would make living in a trunk more comfortable." He shook his head. "What will those Muggles think of next?"

He rubbed his hands together and said, "Okay, moving on. Compartment number three is a massive two-story library with built in floor to ceiling shelves and a track ladder. This compartment will have archival spells built in."

He checked with the next sketch. "Four is a Gringotts-type vault with… what is this? A lobby area?" Seeing Harry's nod, he just shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. Number five is your Muggle Art Gallery with what looks like 18 spotlights aimed at the walls and one more in the middle, right?"

"Right, you're spot on, so far."

He gave Harry an injured look as if to say, 'I'm always spot on', and continued with his recap. "Number six will be your training room with safety charms all around, sixteen Auror grade training dummies, half white, half black, a rack for your collection of weapons, two dueling platforms, a cabinet to hold your Battle Robes and space on the side for Muggle gym equipment." This got another nod of approval from Harry.

"Number seven is a fully functional Potions lab with a low brewing counter in the middle, a regular height counter on one wall for preparations, and shelves around the rest of the room for completed potions, supplies and equipment."

He shuffled the papers and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Last, but not least, compartment eight will be your 'guest quarters'. You'll have 18 eight foot by eight foot rooms with a cot and a bucket."

He looked more closely at the sketch in his hand, noticing something he hadn't before. He looked back over the other sketches and realized that each one had the markings in the lower corner, except the first one.

"Harry," he asked, "what is this?"

"Oh, I almost forgot that part. I want to be able to go from one compartment to another, except the first of course, without having to leave the trunk. That mark shows where I want the doorway to be and the mark next to it shows where the access ladder will be."

He thought for a moment. "You know, it would probably be a good idea to be able to open the trunk from the inside as well. It wouldn't be very inconspicuous for an open trunk to be sitting in the middle of a room."

John had to concede the point. An open trunk would attract too much attention. Despite the hard work ahead of him, John was impressed. "Well, Harry, it looks like you've been planning this for a while now."

"Not really, just the last day or so." He smiled a bit, "Are you ready to go to Gringotts now, or do you want to wait a bit?"

John thought for a moment and sighed, "I suppose we should go get the measurements for your vault compartment before I start. If you want to wait for about an hour, I can have your first two trunks ready before we go. That way you can get on with your day after the Gringotts trip."

Harry agreed and spent the next hour chatting amiably with his old friend and watching him weave layer upon layer of spells onto two identical trunks. By the time they were finished, the two men had caught up sufficiently. After Harry paid for the trunks, he shrunk them down and put them in his pocket, then waited while John put a closed sign on his door.

The friends ambled down Diagon Alley, still chatting about old times until they reached the Wizard's bank. As they entered through the burnished bronze doors, all conversations seemed to come to a grinding halt. People stopped right in the middle of what they were doing as if someone had cast a massive _Impedimentia. _Heads turned and eyes stared.

Suddenly pandemonium broke out and cries of 'Harry Potter!' could be heard from the street. Harry was soon surrounded by adoring fans doing their best to touch him or speak to him, pushing and elbowing anyone who got in their way.

This was a terrifying new experience for Harry and, he would reflect later, he reacted badly to it. After the third person groped him in a very sensitive area, he finally had enough. Using a self levitation charm he had read about, Harry rose high above the rampaging mob and looked around frantically for his companion.

When the crowd shifted, he could just make out the prone figure of his friend. He had been shoved aside and knocked down when he had refused to leave Harry's side. A strange ringing filled Harry's ears and he saw red. Maintaining his own levitation charm, he cast another at John's still figure and soon had him in the air beside him and out of harm's way.

"ENOUGH!" bellowed Harry. The resulting hush was anything but instantaneous, but it finally quieted down enough for Harry to be heard without having to destroy his voice in the process.

"Have you no shame? Had I known that this world was filled with such careless people as yourselves, I would not have bothered to save it!" His rebuke had the desired effect. People seemed to suddenly realize what they had been doing and were coming to see that it was less than acceptable behavior.

Harry decided to put one more nail in the proverbial coffin. He pointed to the blood on John's temple, "Your mob mentality has seriously injured a very good friend of mine. Now I'm thinking I should have left you all to Voldemort."

A shudder ran through the group. Even ten years after his second downfall, the evil wizard's name still struck fear in the hearts of the people who had lived through his reign of terror. Most faces in the crowd looked properly ashamed of their actions, but Harry and John remained aloft until the crimson and gold clad guards could clear enough space for them to safely return to terra firma.

With the guards keeping the throng at bay, Harry was finally able to concentrate on John and his wounds. He carefully healed each one and used a diagnostic spell to determine how bad off he was. The results were not terribly serious, but each injury made Harry see red. The larger man had a few fractured bones, including two ribs, and a slight concussion. All of those were taken care of within moments and as the glow from Harry's wand receded, John slowly opened his eyes.

"What happened?" He asked groggily.

Harry helped him to sit up carefully. "What do you remember?"

Holding his head in his hands, John struggled to think clearly through the blinding headache that had begun to form behind his left eye. "I remember walking down the Alley and entering Gringotts…"

He trailed off and Harry could only sigh. "We were mobbed." Remorse filled his emerald eyes. "I am so sorry, John. I should never have put you in such a dangerous situation."

The large bald man just looked at him blankly. "How were you to know?"

"Huh?"

"Well," he said slowly, "it's not as if you've been out much lately. How were you to know how the people would react?"

"I still should ha-"

"Harry stop. You didn't know."

Harry nodded and rose to his feet, offering his friend a hand. "Now, how about that trip to the vaults, huh?"

* * *

Harry concluded his business with Gringotts in record time. The Goblins at the Wizarding Bank were understandably upset when Harry informed them that he would be emptying his vaults. After fending off several sometimes disturbing offers, he exited the bank and, wearing heavy glamours this time, walked with John back to his shop. He left his friend there with the promise to return in two weeks for his new trunk and another chat.

Still under the glamours, he made his way to Flourish and Blotts to buy new history books detailing Voldemort's reign of terror. His favorite, and the most useful he had found, gave a detailed account of each confirmed Death Eater attack. He thought he would definitely find a use for that information.

Satisfied with the way things had gone, Harry Apparated back to Potter Manor, content in the knowledge that he had gotten things started. Soon his plans would all come together. Soon, he would be able to make a real difference. Soon the day would come when he would be able to right past wrongs.

That day couldn't come quickly enough.

* * *

Author's Note:

Due to the encouraging responses to the last chapter, I have decided to continue _Portals to the Past_. That being said, credit must be given to my new friend Paladeus. Without his wonderful suggestions, this chapter would never have been written! Thank you so much! And if you like my story so far, you should check out _Death's Pride_. I promise you'll like it! Thanks again, Paladeus! You rock!

No one seemed to like what I wrote about Harry, Ron and Hermione's relationship, so I will be taking the pairing in a new direction (Just for you Paladeus!). No worries. Not a trio story anymore.

Also, I must give credit where credit is due. I am not the one that came up with the Live-in-trunk. The first person I ever saw that put it in their story was Ross Wrock. Seriously, go read Harry Potter and the Power of Time (it's in my favorites). Totally worth the hours and hours you'll sit there reading it. It's not done yet, but he promises it will be soon. I've read it about 6 or 7 times myself. Wonderful Independent! Smart! Powerful! Harry story.

If any one is interested, look up _Terrortours Travel Agency_. It's cannon! Cool, huh?

Thanks for reading!

Please Review and let me know if I'm doing well or if I suck worse than a Chupacabra.

Thanks again,

AF Marauder

P.s.

In case anyone is curious, the United States Library of Congress has over 120 million books, so I don't think Harry's collection is impossible, especially when you think about all the doubles he must have and how Hermione 'liberated' all those books from their safe houses.


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter is a bit shorter than usual and there's a rather … terse author's note at the end. I'll warn you before you get there so you don't have to read it if you don't want to. This has been sitting in my computer since my last update and I have been working on it off and on. Evidently, my muse got offended because of a review and took a bit of an unscheduled vacation. Speaking of, hopefully during my own vacation, I'll be able to write the next chapter. Sorry for the infrequent updates and thanks for hanging in there.

As always, I do not own Harry Potter or the 'Potterverse'… however much I wish I did.

**Portals to the Past**

**Chapter 3**

The weeks and months flew by and soon Harry's preparations were complete. The only thing left for him to do before he left his 'home' reality were the rituals themselves. He had collected his ingredients and brewed the potion used to outline the portal and inscribed the circle of runes onto the slate floor in the ritual chambers deep beneath the foundations of Potter Manor. He had cleansed himself in the traditional manner and robed himself in flowing white silk that would not interfere with the energy of the portal. And, though they could not be seen from the underground chamber, the stars shone brightly in a moonless night sky.

Having decided to do two separate rituals instead of combining them and running the risk of messing it all up, Harry sent his trunk back first. Because it was only dealing with shifting inanimate objects back in time and not space, that portal was the easiest one in the book. Harry would just have to make a trip to Potter Manor's ritual chambers to retrieve his trunk.

Finally, Harry stood in the middle of the circle of runes that would become his portal and, after checking his calculations once more and burning the parchment, he began weaving his magic into place. The potion-drawn runes began to glow with an unearthly light and it felt as if a build up of static electricity was hanging in the air. Ambient magic swirled around Harry as he chanted and poured his magic into his work.

Suddenly, a bright, white-hot light shone from the circle surrounding him. When the light died away, no trace was left that there had been an intense magical working. The potion had been burned off of the slate floor and not even a scrap of fabric was left of the man-who-conquered.

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* * *

He was floating. No, not floating. Floating would suggest he had a form that could be floated. He was wafting. Like smoke. Harry Potter was smoke drifting on the breeze.

'_Well, damn.' _He thought to himself. _'Was this supposed to happen?'_

No sooner had he thought the words than he felt a pull, not unlike a Portkey, drawing him towards something. Faster and faster he went, rocketing right through houses, people and mountains like they weren't even there. Once or twice he thought the landscape looked familiar, but he was whisked by too quickly to tell.

Finally, after what felt like ages but was, in reality, only a few moments, the pulling stopped. He drifted a few more feet and came to a stop in a dark place.

'_I wonder if I can use magic in this form.'_ He held his hand out low in front of him and cast a wandless _Lumos_.

The familiar sight of the cupboard under the stairs leapt into sharp focus as light flooded the small enclosed space. Harry's eyes were drawn to the small, still form lying on a thin pallet. He recognized the messy black hair and knew that if the eyes were to open right then, he would find them to be a deep emerald green.

Harry felt drawn to his younger self. He had the strongest urge to reach out and touch the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Slowly he reached out with his index finger to gently stroke the proof of his equality with the evil wizard, Tom Riddle.

As soon as his ghostly finger touched his younger self, Harry was drawn into the young body before him. When his stomach had stopped churning and his heart rate had evened out, Harry opened his eyes and saw darkness once more.

Quickly, he cast another wandless _Lumos_ and nearly blinded himself with the sun-bright light that appeared in the small cupboard. Harry grinned with delight. He had done it. Not only had he returned his mind to his younger body, he had obviously retained his power and added it to his almost-eleven-year-old self's powers!

Quietly, Harry unlocked the cupboard door and snuck into his aunt's spotless kitchen in search of something that could tell him the date. He knew that his uncle had read the news paper every morning, so he went to the trash can in hopes of finding the one from that morning.

Luck was with him, unfortunate that it wasn't good luck. The trash had evidently been emptied that night, so there was no paper for him to get the date from. Harry sighed, wondering if the news boy had been by yet. He almost hit himself in the head and managed to stifle the groan that wanted to escape from him.

'_Honestly, sometimes I'm worse than Hermione!'_ he thought. Waving his hand, he whispered, "_Balanus et Tempus._"

Glowing words formed over his outstretched palm. July 24, 1991 – 12:15am.

'_Excellent. One week before my eleventh birthday and the day I got my first Hogwarts letter.'_

With nothing to do but wait for the mail to arrive later in the morning, Harry returned to the cupboard under the stairs. He stood at the doorway and looked into the cramped space. He shook his head sadly. Even with all his years of life, he still could not understand why his relatives hated him so much.

With a casual wave of his hand, he expanded the tiny space allotted to him. Now it was the size of a very small bedroom, but at least he could stand up straight. He waved his hand again and the cot grew to the size of a twin bed and softened considerably. He completed it with sheets and a comfortable pillow.

Finally, he fell into bed and, after doing his Occlumency exercises and compiling a to-do list in his mind, slept the sleep of the mentally and physically exhausted.

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* * *

The next morning was heralded by Petunia Dursley's shrill voice yelling at him to wake up and fix breakfast. Harry groaned in annoyance and rolled off of his transfigured bed. A wave of his hand had his cupboard back to its original uncomfortable state.

The morning went as he remembered with one major exception. This time, when he went to get the mail, he stuffed his letter in his pocket and didn't open it at the table. He would wait until he was sure he would remain undisturbed before reading the familiar words.

His aunt kept him busy in the yard all day, weeding the garden, cutting the grass, planting new flowers and generally working him like her own personal house elf. By the time he had cooked dinner, receiving a piece of stale bread and a glass of water for his meal, and the Dursleys had gone to bed, Harry was beyond ready to read his letter, even though he knew exactly what it would say.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary supplies and equipment. _

_Term begins 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall _

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry's heart swelled. He would be returning to the place he had considered home for over 6 years. He would once again see the splendor of a Hogwarts that had yet to fall. Now all he had to do was make sure that it would not fall this time.

Harry packed a few things that he would need in Diagon Alley into an old, worn out backpack of Dudley's. As he had the night before, he unlocked the cupboard door and, quietly snuck into the kitchen. There he wrote his Aunt a note.

_Aunt Petunia,_

_I wish to thank you for your sub-par care over the years. I understand that you didn't have a choice in taking me in, but you did have a choice as to how well you treated me. I have recently found out that I am worth quite a bit of money. The Potter's were quite wealthy, you know. Because of your treatment of me over the years, however, I am delighted to say that you and your family will not see a single pound._

_Please note that as soon as I physically say that I no longer think of your house as home, the blood wards that were set to protect me from Voldemort and his followers (and as a by-product, your family as well) will fall and you will have no protection. These people are ruthless and would delight in killing you slowly and painfully. I suggest you move as far away as possible._

_I will allow you one week. At the end of that week, I will declare myself well and truly freed of you and your despicable family. I wish you luck and hope that our paths never have reason to cross again._

_Harry James Potter_

_Heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Potter_

_Heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Black_

He knew it was foolhardy to give up the blood protections, but he knew that the protection in his blood would not suffer from him not living with his Mother's family. At first, the plan was to stay with the Dursleys until he reached his majority, but now, after one day in their 'tender loving care', he was more than ready to leave.

Changing things this soon might throw any chance he had of staying one step ahead of the game right out the window, but that was a chance he was willing to take. He only hoped that it didn't change things too much or too fast.

He left the note and his Hogwarts letter on the kitchen table for his Aunt to find in the morning, and silently made his escape. He slipped out the back door and, jumping over hedges and fences, vanished into the hot summer night.

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* * *

Harry knew that he could not ride the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley because he didn't have any money. He didn't have access to a Floo, so that was out as well, unless he wanted to break into Mrs. Figg's house (which he didn't).

'_I guess there's no hope for it. I'll have to Apparate wandless.'_ Harry's lip curled in a moue of distaste. He really hated to Apparate without a wand. Not only was it draining, but it required much more concentration and magical power than if he had the focus provided by a wand.

Harry sighed resignedly and closed his eyes. He focused all of his concentration on his destination and vanished with a nearly inaudible crack, reappearing outside the bronze double doors of Gringotts. His face broke into a wide smile as he realized that he wasn't nearly as drained as he would normally be after Apparating such a long distance even with a wand.

'_Looks like I really do have more power available.'_ He grinned. _'Look out, World! Here I come!'_

Harry turned to climb the white marble steps of Gringotts. As he'd suspected, the bank was still open. He had once been told that the Goblins had more flexible hours due to their natural habitat being under ground caves. At the moment, he found he didn't much care about the reasoning behind their hours. He was just happy that they were open when he needed to access his accounts.

He took a moment to look around for dangerous people or situations, disguising it as looking around in awe. As he read the poem on the great bronze doors, he cast about with his senses, looking for dark beings and the auras of dark wizards. Finding one but knowing that their attention wasn't on him, Harry entered the bank. Keeping with his awed act, he slowly made his way up to the lone teller on duty.

"Excuse me," Harry mentally cursed when it came out as a small, frightened squeak, but shrugged mentally thinking it wouldn't hurt his persona.

The teller sneered down at him from the added height given to him by the raised dais on which his desk was perched. Harry could almost see the Goblin's impatience rise within him. His demeanor said, _'Great, just what I need, some youngling that has lost its parents.'_

The Goblin sighed and said sharply, "Yes, what do you want?"

Harry's eyes hardened as his temper rose. He spoke softly and coldly to the teller, "First of all, you can inform Senior Manager Griphook that his presence is requested as soon as possible, and then you may show me to a private room in which I can await his arrival."

The Goblin, not sensing danger of any kind said, "Senior Manager Griphook is a very important Goblin. He has no time to waste on children. I suggest you come back with your guardian if you truly have business with him." He looked down at the large slab sized ledger on his desk and dismissed Harry with a curt, "Good day."

Harry, realizing for the first time the disadvantage of looking like a malnourished eleven-year-old, thought furiously for a moment. Goblins tended to respect people who could speak their language. Even more, they tended to respect people that insulted them. Call it a racial quirk. Keeping this in mind, Harry approached the teller once again, putting up a privacy ward around the desk and proceeded to dress him down, Drill Sergeant style, loudly discussing every thing from his ancestry and personal hygiene to his lack of morals and honor, all in perfect Gobbledygook.

When the young Goblin was practically shaking in his boots, and thinking that the apocalypse was nigh, Harry asked (read demanded) once again to see Griphook. This time there was no hesitation and the teller showed him to a private office. He left, still looking a bit shaken to go find the requested Goblin.

Harry looked around the well appointed office, taking in the large windows surrounded by yards of heavy, scarlet colored, velvet drapes, mahogany paneling and bookshelves filled with leather bound books written in Gobbledygook. He couldn't help but admire the thick Oriental rug that practically begged him to walk barefoot on it.

A large mahogany desk with an expensive looking quill set and a desk blotter on it presided over the room. Behind this monstrosity, a comfortable looking leather office chair waited for its occupant and before it, two comfortable leather chairs inviting Harry to sit.

Instead, he wandered over to the bookcase and perused the stuffy looking financial tomes on the bottom shelf. The higher shelves were, to his displeasure, too high for his eleven-year-old height to see properly.

About ten minutes after the Goblin left, the door opened again and admitted the first Goblin that Harry had ever met. Griphook took the seat behind the large, ornate desk and turned hard eyes on the-boy-who-lived. That look coming from a Goblin would normally give even the most hardened Auror pause. Harry barely batted an eye.

If this young human's fortitude shocked Griphook, he didn't show it. The surprise he felt when Harry knelt before him with his right fist over his heart in a formal Goblin salute showed clearly on his face and he even did a double take when Harry spoke for the first time.

Again in perfect Gobbledygook, he said, "Greetings to the Keeper of My Vaults. May your gold flow freely."

"And yours as well, Mr. Potter" he answered in English. Shaking off his shock at being addressed so formally by one so young, he asked, "and to what do I owe your rather late visit?"

"My apologies for the hour of my visit, Master Griphook. I wished to visit my vaults and claim my inheritance as the Head of the Potter family. This was the best time for me to sneak away from my Muggle relatives." He gave a wry smile. "I fear if they were aware of what my vaults hold, they would try to take it away. If they were successful in that endeavor, they would withdraw the Potter fortune and entrust it to a Muggle bank."

Griphook looked at Harry appraisingly. "That would be unfortunate. Very well, let us begin. I am, as you know, the manager of the Potter estate. As such, I was supposed to be the executor of your parents' wills. Unfortunately, Mr. Dumbledore decided that their will could be better executed if he were to do it. I never actually saw the wills, but your mother and father spoke to me about what they wanted to happen if the worst should happen."

Harry nodded to show he was following and the Goblin continued. "Their wills were sealed by Mr. Dumbledore shortly after their deaths. The reason I bring this up is that in the normal order of things, you would not be able to claim Headship of your family or your inheritance until you reached your majority. If your parents' wills stated otherwise, however, you will be able to claim it when they specified."

"So, we need the wills?" Asked Harry.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter."

Harry gave his permission for Griphook to unseal the wills and when they arrived from the department where they were stored, Griphook read over one while Harry read the other. When they were done, they switched.

_Last Will and Testament of_

_Lily Evans Potter_

_I, Lily Potter, being of sound mind and body, affirm that this is my last will and testament and should be enacted upon my death. _

_My Husband and I are preparing to go into hiding from the Dark Lord Voldemort. We have told people that Sirius Black will be our Secret Keeper. Should we be betrayed, it was not his doing. We switched to Peter Pettigrew because we hoped that he would be the least likely suspect should Voldemort wish to find out where we were._

_Should I die before my Husband, James Potter, all of my worldly possessions should become his. If James dies before I do, everything should go to our son, Harry Potter and kept in trust at Gringotts Bank until be reaches the age of 11. _

_In the event that my Husband and I die before Harry comes of age, he is to inherit the Potter estate upon his eleventh birthday. Should we not be able to care for Harry, I designate the following people, in order of preference, to care for my son._

_Sirius Orion Black – Godfather to Harry James Potter_

_Remus John Lupin – Secondary Godfather to Harry James Potter_

_Minerva McGonagall – Good Friend _

_Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore – Good Friend and Great Wizard_

_Poppy Pomphrey – Midwife and Good Friend_

_**I want it perfectly understood that under no circumstances should Harry be left with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They are intolerant Muggles and would not be able or willing to care for a Magical child.**_

_Signed and Witnessed July 25, 1981_

_Lily Evans Potter __Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

James Potter's will was nearly identical to his wife's.

_Last Will and Testament of_

_James Potter_

_I, James Potter, being of sound mind and body, affirm that this is my last will and testament and should be enacted upon my death. _

_My Wife and I are preparing to go into hiding from the Dark Lord Voldemort. We have told people that Sirius Black will be our Secret Keeper. Should we be betrayed, it was not his doing. We switched to Peter Pettigrew because we hoped that he would be the least likely suspect should Voldemort wish to find out where we were._

_Should I die before my Wife, Lily Evans Potter, all of my worldly possessions should become hers. If Lily dies before I do, everything should go to our son, Harry Potter and kept in trust at Gringotts Bank until be reaches the age of 11._

_In the event that my Wife and I die before Harry comes of age, he is to inherit the Potter estate upon his eleventh birthday. Should we not be able to care for Harry, I designate the following people, in order of preference, to care for my son._

_Sirius Orion Black – Godfather to Harry James Potter_

_Remus John Lupin – Secondary Godfather to Harry James Potter_

_Minerva McGonagall – Good Friend _

_Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore – Good Friend and Great Wizard_

_Poppy Pomphrey – Midwife and Good Friend_

_**I want it perfectly understood that under no circumstances should Harry be left with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They are intolerant Muggles and would not be able or willing to care for a Magical child.**_

_Signed and Witnessed July 25, 1981_

_James Potter  __Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Harry knew what they said before he read them, but made a show of acting surprised. He also knew that Dumbledore had kept this from him and in the original timeline, he had not learned of the will's existences until he went through his parent's vault. He didn't bother to act as betrayed as he had felt when he originally found the wills. At this point in this timeline, he had not even met Albus Dumbledore and so could not feel betrayed by him. But he made a promise to himself that he would not allow the aged Headmaster to use him this time.

Griphook finished reading and set aside Lily Potter's will. "As you now know, Mr. Potter, you are only a week away from being able to claim the Potter Legacy. Is this your intention?"

"It is." Harry furrowed his brow as if in thought. "About this Sirius Black… why was I not sent to live with him? Both the wills stated that I wasn't to be sent to the Dursleys, but I was."

"Ah, well..." Griphook seemed a bit nervous. "As I told you before, Mr. Dumbledore sealed the wills before we could try to carry them out. As to why you were not claimed by Lord Black, I am afraid he was incarcerated in Azkaban prison for betraying your parents and killing Peter Pettigrew." He scowled at the wills. "However, with this evidence, I believe that we should push for him to get the trial he never got."

Putting on his best innocent-little-boy act, Harry asked, "You mean they sent him to prison without a trial? How could they do that?"

"You have to understand, Mr. Potter, that at the time, people believed that he was your parent's Secret Keeper. They had no reason to suspect that he was not guilty. However," Griphook's eyes took on a fierce gleam, "I think we could get him free, and with a tidy settlement for wrongful imprisonment."

Harry grinned at the Goblin. He had always liked how they could find just about any way to make money off of something. "Do you think we can get him out by my birthday? I'll need someone to 'raise me'."

"We can certainly try, Mr. Potter."

"Good. Can you go over everything I will be inheriting in a week with me? I think I need to make some decisions on where I'm going to live and things like that."

The next few hours were spent going over things that Harry had known for the better part of a decade. He just listened to his Account Manager and thought about what he needed to accomplish in the next week. Finally they were done going over the extensive holdings of the Potter estate.

"Thank you, Griphook, you've been most helpful. Now, I'm going to be spending the next week in Diagon Alley, since I obviously won't have access to Potter Manor or any of the other properties until I claim the Legacy. I was planning on taking a room at the Leaky Cauldron, but realize that they might have issues with letting a room to me because of my age. Is there anything that would help me with that?"

"Well, you could always offer to pay up front." Griphook stroked his chin in thought. "There are always glamours of course… Yes, I think that would work. It would keep people from recognizing you as well." He started to explain about Goblin glamours and Harry let him carry on, not letting it show that he already knew everything he was told.

"That sounds good. Also, is there a way to get money out of my vault without having to come to the bank each time? I need to get my school supplies and stuff like that."

"Of course. We offer an enchanted money pouch that will only allow you to remove money, but anyone can make a deposit. Normally they would cost 100 Galleons, but your father had one and decided that you needed one as well. He left it in my care." Griphook opened a drawer and removed a small bag that had the Gringotts and Potter crests embroidered on it.

"Simply say how much you wish to withdraw and it will appear in the bag. This bag is connected to your trust fund. Should you wish to have one connected to the Potter Family Vault, you will need to purchase it once you are in charge of it."

Griphook paused for a moment and looked at Harry shrewdly. "Will you be doing any shopping in the Muggle world?"

Harry smiled inwardly. "Actually, I had planned on buying a whole Muggle wardrobe." He gestured depreciatingly at his attire. "As you can see, my current one is not fit for someone of my standing."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. The reason I ask is because Gringotts has recently started using a Muggle invention called a 'Debit Card'."

Harry nodded to show that he knew what that was. "I assume that the standard conversion fees apply?"

"Naturally. There is a small start up fee of 20 Galleons. That covers the card and a Muggle picture identification card that will change to match your current appearance. After that, just the standard fees apply." Griphook gave a pointy-toothed smile. "Would you be interested in that?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. It would be easier than carrying around hundreds of pounds. "Yes, I think that would be good."

Griphook took care of the glamour and debit card and around 5 o'clock in the morning, after receiving Griphook's assurances that his visit would be kept in the strictest of confidences, Harry was on his way to the Leaky Cauldron to get a room for the next week. Tomorrow, he would outfit himself for school and work on solidifying the rest of his plans. But for now, a warm meal and a soft bed were all he really wanted.

* * *

Author's Note:

I got this anonymous review for the last chapter.

Original Review:

"they are effing trunks man, they are for clothes, not to live in, get over

it. skimmed your story couldnt actually read it way to many bs cliche for me.

so for the most part this looked rushed, not sure if you took biology yet but

only one person at time can father a child with one woman, yes even if its

twins still gonna be one of them not both. "Anti-Apparation

Anti-Disapparation Anti-Portkey Anti-Suicide Anti-Owl Anti-Tracking

Anti-Tracing Magic Dampening Sound Proofing Air Circulation Health Monitoring

One Way Door Anti-Animagus" which one of these is so dark that the merchant

has trouble doing it?"

This is my response (if you don't want to see me get a little pissy, I suggest you stop here):

To the rude person who left this flame, without having the rocks to sign it, I say, it's my story and I'll do with it what I please. If I want him to have an 'effing' trunk in which he can live, I will. If you don't like it, I suggest you write your own fanfiction and quit reading mine. The fact that you simply skimmed this story without actually taking the time to read what you were flaming reflects badly on you. I am sorry that it had 'way to many bs cliche' for you and I assure you that it was not rushed. I took over a week to make it just right.

Also, I am curious as to where you saw me mention someone having more than one father. If you had bothered to actually read my story instead of just deciding to flame it, you would have known that I made no reference to someone having more than one biological father. I am assuming you were referring to Hermione's pregnancy and my statement that Ron and Harry were going to be daddies. To this, I say, if a woman has two lovers (and they know about each other and are all three in a loving relationship) and she doesn't know who the father of her child is, or even if she did, would the three of them not consider the child all of theirs? Not every daddy has to be a biological father and not every father is a daddy. Narrow minded person.

Just FYI, I have probably reached a higher level of education than you, judging on your serious lack of spelling and grammar abilities, and as a matter of fact, I specialized in Biology (Bachelor of Science in Biology, pre-med). As to your narrow minded belief that even twins have to have the same father, I am delighted to say that you are wrong. If a woman releases two eggs, and copulates (that mean has sex) with two different men (usually within a day or so of each other) it is possible for **fraternal** twins to have different fathers. I suggest you check your facts before lecturing someone about something that you obviously have little to no knowledge about. Besides, who's to say how a magical body works? That's what makes this world so much fun to play in. The possibilities are endless.

As to the list of prison spells, all of them in conjunction (that means together) would be considered dark and illegal for a private citizen to have. Most notably, the magic dampening charm would be considered dark (or at the very least gray). I don't know about you, but if someone tried to hack off my arm and toss me in prison, I would think that was evil. Magic is just another appendage (body part) to witches and wizards.

The next time you feel the need to flame me, at least sign it so I can tell you to your face what an idiot you are. A wise man once said, "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

And thus ends my rant.

While I realize that it is cliché, next chapter, Harry goes shopping.

Thank you for reading.

Please sign your review. Thank you.


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